


we’ll watch the skies turn blue

by orphan_account



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, girl idk what this is just take it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2019-10-29 09:05:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17805125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: we may never see the skies turn blue / but i care about youEveryone’s got a lot of things to sort through—the outbreak, the aftermath, the trauma, and whatever else—but Leon isn’t as ready as everyone else is to handle it all.[ post-re2make ending, everything after that kinda-sorta never happened. leon and claire don’t really know what to do now, and chris is flying back to the states from europe after getting the news of raccoon city’s fate. ]





	1. meeting

**Author's Note:**

> ok so basically. listen. i havent finished re2make yet but i saw the ending already and i know how everything goes down. i dont care. capcom has me by the balls but also re lore can be stupid so i do whatever i want.
> 
> this is canon divergent, if you didn’t see the tags. i love re to pieces but as i said before its lore can be a mess + re2make’s true ending had me feeling some kind of way (in a good way. mostly), and i want them all to be happy. so this fic was born.
> 
> also i am an idiot. i had to ask my mom how you meet people in airports. had to google how to use a semi-colon. i tried, ok. i don’t really care to be as realistic as possible bc in the end none of us are here for reality. we’re here for gay people.
> 
> fic title is a lyric from _happy_ by last dinosaurs, but i slightly altered it bc the lyric in question made me sad so i made it happier. even though this fic might be a little sad. enjoy.
> 
>  **EDIT 3/30/19:** i noticed that i kind of had a plot hole or two here so i fixed it, but ill probably come back to it again later lol

They’ve been hitchhiking it ever since they escaped Raccoon City. They’re tired, hungry, bloodied and smell like literal shit, but they continue to push on. Some of the generous drivers had given them money, which was enough to find some place to sleep along with getting a meal or two. Leon, being the considerate idiot that he was, insisted that Sherry and Claire get extra food for themselves. He was fine, he assured them, he wasn’t that hungry anyway, and a few hours later after excessive walking, a messed up shoulder, and also not eating since this nightmare began (save for a few herbs, which he still wasn’t entirely sure was completely safe) he eventually passed out in the middle of a motel parking lot.

He woke up staring at a ceiling with suspicious stains, and then a little girl with blonde hair came into view.

“Are.. Are you okay, Leon?” asked a small, worried voice. Who did that voice belong to? _Oh, yeah. Sherry. The girl we saved. A good kid._ The rookie cop was pulled from his thoughts as he felt her small hand shake him slightly. “...Leon?” 

He was going to respond with a reassurance, but all that came out was a groan. He felt her hand on his forehead, so cold against his burning hot skin. “I think you might have a fever… Um.. Let’s see…” Her touch had disappeared, and he could hear her shuffle somewhere, the sound of a light switch being flipped on, and the sound of running water. All of the sudden a sopping wet washcloth fell ungracefully on his face, making a loud _slap!_ as it made contact. He groaned again, to which Sherry hurriedly apologized and made it so the washcloth covered his forehead instead of his entire face. “Is that better?” she asks, and he gives her another groan and a weak thumbs up. She giggled a little, and gently patted his hand before shuffling off somewhere once again. 

He was drifting in and out of consciousness. It was hard to focus on anything, and he didn’t think he could move an inch. There was a dull but very apparent pain in his shoulder, and even though he had just been through a little zombie apocalypse, he thought this was probably the worst part of his first day. Wait, it wasn’t the first day. It’s the fifth day. Or is it the third week? ...The second month? _Am I hungover again? When did I even drink? Where am I?_

Like it was scripted, he heard a door being unlocked and Sherry’s excited, relieved exclaim, “Claire! You’re back!”

“Sure am. What, did you think I got lost or somethin’?” Boots being kicked off, a jacket being unzipped and thrown off somewhere, a plastic bag filled with a lot of _something_ being plopped onto what Leon assumed was a counter or some other hard surface. From the smell, it was definitely food. Chinese. God, if he didn’t feel miserable, he’d eat it in a heartbeat.

“No… I just thought you left us behind or something. I was really worried. Leon just woke up but he felt like had a fever, and I didn’t know what else to do. So I gave him a wet washcloth, because my mom used to do that when I got sick!” A few seconds of silence, and Leon is imagining Sherry looking down at her feet in defeat. She says quietly, “But, um.. I don’t think it did much.”

“I’m proud of you, kiddo,” Claire says, her voice as cheery and optimistic it always is. Leon hears Claire walking towards him, and the sound of Sherry’s shuffling not far behind. Suddenly he saw them both—barely, through half-lidded eyes—and tried to give them a smile. It probably looked more like a grimace than anything else. Claire’s brows furrowed in concern on his left and Sherry nervously wringing her hands on his right. For a moment he drifted out again, and he heard a few warbled words about one thing or another, and there was a word that was being repeated over and over, increasing and volume until Leon had come back to himself again.

“Leon!” That was the word. “Shit. We don’t have much of anything to bring your fever down. We need to get you to a hospital—now.” Claire’s voice was determined, just as it always was. Her voice was a lot of things, he noticed. It reminded him of a mother, which is something he never had growing up, but he imagined if he did, she wouldn’t sound much different than Claire did right now: sweet and understanding. It was soothing. It was enough to make Leon drift out again, only for her voice to take on a stern tone, snapping him awake. “Stay with me, okay? We’re gonna get you some help, I promise. Sherry, can you keep an eye on him while I go to the front desk? They might have a phone up there.”

“Okay.” Sherry responds. “I’ll take care of him. I promise. And I promise I won’t break my promise.”

His eyes are getting heavy. “I know you won’t,” he hears a very evident smile in the older girl’s voice. “I’ll be quick. Hang in there, Leon.”

Leon mumbles something, and he’s drifting once again.

* * *

He woke up staring at a white ceiling, suspicious stains nowhere to be found. White ceilings. Umbrella. NEST. For some reason his chest is tight, he feels like he’s got to go, he needs to _run_ , he doesn’t know where but he just needs to _escape_. He tries to move and he feels pain exploded like a firework in his shoulder, forcing him to lie still for a moment. Something in his brain snaps, pain be damned, and he’s only vaguely aware of him thrashing about. He’s breathing heavy, he’s sweating, the ceiling seems to be getting closer as if it’s gonna drop on him, where’s Claire, where’s Sherry, _where’s A—_

“Leon? Le—stop moving, it’s me. It’s me, okay? You’re okay,” he hears Claire’s voice, soothing as usual, slowly but surely bringing him back to reality. The ceiling is where it should be. No suspicious stains. No Umbrella. No NEST. No Raccoon City, no R.P.D, no weird puzzles or zombies. He’s somewhere new. His turns his head to look at Claire.

“You’re in the hospital,” Claire says, like it’s on cue. “Doctors are gonna patch you right up. Give you some medicine and one of those comfy white blankets, too. They even gave you some scrubs instead of a hospital gown. Lucky you, huh?” She sounds tired, but relieved. Happy to see him, and the feeling is returned. He tries to let her know this, but all that comes out is a hoarse mumble of what should be words.

Claire smiles at him, and Leon gives a very small, weak smile in return. _That should be enough._ He drifts. Drifting, drifting, drifting. It’s starting to be a comfort to him.

* * *

Five days. Leon’s been in this hospital for five days, and he’s just about had it. He’s grateful for the help and the food they’re providing, plus the white blankets were pretty comfortable, but he wants to get out. He wants to go home, maybe have a drink or two so he can temporarily forget about what the hell he experienced, and play with his dog. It was a good thing he left his dog over at his old college friend’s house since his apartment inspections were supposed to be happening during his first day of work, and no pets were allowed in the building. How he managed to get away with it for this long is beyond him, but he doesn’t wanna jinx it, so he stops thinking about it.

Claire and Sherry have been lifesavers for his sanity and boredom. Sherry brings in crayons and a dollar store coloring book. The crayons aren’t Crayola, so they’re pretty bad quality, and Leon says this out loud. “Oh my God, Leon, they’re _crayons_. I didn’t know you had such a specific taste.” Claire teases him, but it’s full of love, and he knows it. He plays her game.

“Yeah, and my ‘specific taste’ is pretty good. I’m not hearing this from someone who eats miracle whip sandwiches. Now _that_ is bad taste.”

Claire crosses her arms defensively. “Hey! Don’t knock it ‘till you try it. Sherry even liked it! She ate her sandwich in five seconds while my back was turned!”

Sherry rubs her arm, avoiding Claire’s eyes. “A-Actually Claire.. I did take a bite but… I, um… threw it away after. It didn’t taste that good.” Leon smirks and raises his fist to Sherry, who gently bumps it. “I’m sorry.”

“So that’s how it is, huh? Betrayed by my own comrades,” Claire laughs, ruffling Leon and Sherry’s hair, to which Sherry giggles in response. “You’ve won this round, Kennedy. But don’t think the fight’s over yet.”

“Sure,” Leon says, laughing a little. There’s smiles all around, and for a moment it feels like this is how life has always been and will continue to be. A life that Leon feels like he’s known forever, even though he’s only had it for a short while. It feels _right_. 

Five days turn into fourteen, and Leon is approved to go home. Paperwork and whatnot get signed, and he isn’t sure why it took so long. It’s all a blur and he doesn’t care if he remembers or not. It’s back to the drifting that he thought he had gotten over while he was a patient. He’s quiet, giving a few nods and murmurs, and pretty much letting Claire do the work. He sits down next to a large window in the reception office, watching the clouds pass through the sky, half-listening to Sherry pointing out which one looks like a bear and which one looks like a pineapple. Time feels slow, but the clouds seem way ahead of it.

* * *

Leon wasn't quite sure how everything just fell into place so easily, but he didn't feel like questioning it. All he knew was that Dr. Rebecca Chambers, a young medic prodigy who happened to be a friend of Claire's brother as well as Claire herself, had been working at the hospital he had been patched up at, and she was more than happy to give them a place to stay for as long as they needed.

Rebecca’s house is more suburban than Leon’s. Then again, he lived in a leaky brownstone with a mold problem. The backyards could afford to be a little more spacious, but other than it was your average midwestern suburbia. Perfect home for a new family. Sherry asked if, when Leon and Claire adopted her (which neither had agreed nor disagreed on), they could possibly live in this neighborhood. “I saw a lot of kids at the playground on the street,” she said excitedly. “We can all go there together and play. We can even ask Rebecca to come with us!”

Leon hummed, not really giving her an answer, but it was enough of a response for Sherry to move on to more interesting things, like how the fluffy and cute the squirrels were, compared to the infected ones back in the city. Zombie squirrels was something Leon didn’t even know about, but now that he did, he was sure he wasn’t gonna look at squirrels the same ever again.

They all sat around a table under a patio umbrella— _ugh_ —in Rebecca’s backyard. It was relatively quiet as everyone ate their grilled cheese—Sherry insisted that her grilled cheese have peanut butter as well, which led Leon to believe that Claire’s weird food taste had started to rub off on the little girl—and just like in the hospital, Leon felt like this was how life was supposed to be. 

The phone began to ring near the end of their lunch. Rebecca excused herself and told them they were free to walk around the house a little more, or even go down to the playground that Sherry has been not-so-subtle about wanting to go to. Leon didn’t feel up to it, in all honesty. He insisted they go without him, and eventually the girls gave up on convincing him, and went on their merry way. He was content with lying on the grass and watching the clouds float by, and for a while, the only noise interrupting the quiet was the rustling of leaves, until—

“Barry called.” Rebecca says, her tone indescribable. He doesn’t shift to face her. 

“Who?”

“Barry.” she says again, as if Leon is supposed to know who that is. He doesn’t, if that wasn’t obvious by now.

“Oh,” Silence for a few seconds. “Well, uh. What did he say?”

“There are more survivors,” Rebecca says softly. “You three weren’t the only ones to escape from the city. A friend of mine and a U.B.C.S soldier.”

“A friend and a what?” 

He hears the sound of grass being crushed, and suddenly Rebecca is sitting next to him. “The U.B.C.S. is a private military force under Umbrella. Apparently he didn’t even know about Umbrella’s involvement, and saved my friend’s life,” She pulls her legs in, her chin resting on her knees. “She got infected, but he cured her. My friend Barry saved them both before Raccoon City got wiped out. He said there’s nothing but rubble and… pretty much nothing else. Not even skeletons. There’s nothing.”

His head turns toward her, and there’s so many things that he has to process properly and so many things he needs to ask, and the only thing he can manage to say is, “Oh.”

Apparently that’s not all she has to say. “I don’t know if you knew this, but… Claire’s brother, Chris, is alive. He went to Europe to investigate Umbrella and gather enough evidence against them to take them down, once and for all. But after he found out about what happened in Raccoon… he said he’s coming back to the States.”

A short hum as he turns back to the sky. “That’s good.” He says distractedly, his eyes focused on one small cloud that seems to be barely moving among the other ones that are flying past it. He’s starting to get nauseous, and he’s pretty sure the blue above him isn’t the reason. There’s something else, and he’s too scared to figure out what it is, because he knows he’s not going to like it. 

“Are you okay, Leon?” Rebecca asks. She almost sounds like Claire.

“Yeah.” He answers after a solid minute of quiet, and it’s so painfully unconvincing that he cringes a bit, but Rebecca doesn’t press him any further. They sit in silence long enough for the afternoon to shift to early evening, watching the sky turn to a soft orange.

* * *

Rebecca breaks the news after dinner, after Sherry gets tucked in and everyone is convinced that Leon is sleeping soundly on the sofa bed. He hears the patio door being slid open and then closed. 

All he hears are mumbles from behind the glass. They’re out there long enough for Leon to actually fall asleep, but then he hears the door open and close again, then hears footsteps going down the hall, and now he’s wide awake. He was never a light sleeper until now. He’s sure he knows why, but he doesn’t want to think about it. But now that he thinks about it, there’s a lot of things that he doesn’t want to think about. _Stop thinking and go the fuck to bed already._

He was about to do that, honest to God he was, but then he felt the the edge of mattress dip. He laid stock still until he heard someone sniffling, then silence, then full on sobbing.

He clutches at the hospital blanket that he’s definitely not attached to, torn between whether he should duck his head under it or move it aside so he can sit up and see the crier in question. She’s still sobbing as a few minutes pass, and Leon just feels terrible for trying to ignore it. He looks at the figure and sees that her hair is past her shoulders, and he doesn’t recognize her. For a minute he thinks he’s hallucinating some random lady, so he sits up and taps the girl’s shoulder, making her jump slightly. _Not a dream, I guess_. She turns around, and Leon is only able to see her because of the moonlight. 

_Oh._ “Claire?”

Claire wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “Leon! I—I’m sorry if I woke you up. I’m just a little, um. Stressed. I’m fine now.”

He considered telling her that he never went to sleep to begin with, but decides not to. He scoots over to the edge, settling next to her. “You didn’t sound fine a few seconds ago. Are you sure you’re okay?” 

She looks at him as if she’s unsure whether she should answer or not. She stutters and stumbles over what she wants to say; a bunch of snippets of what Leon assumed would’ve been words and fall from her lips, and eventually she just sighs and covers her face with her hands, heavily sighing. Her hands fall on her lap and she looks at the window next to the front door. 

“My brother is coming tomorrow. He’s catching the earliest plane back here. I’m so glad that he’s okay— _God_ , Leon, I was a total wreck when I found his letter. Chris does **not** sound like that. Sure he can be a bit of a dick, but he’s not _that_ much of a dick. I thought Irons must’ve forged it, because it just added up to be that way, but at the same time…” She sighs again, hugging herself. “I knew he wouldn’t have gone down so easily. Chris never gives up on what he believes in—he’s too much of a stubborn bastard to do that.”

She looks at Leon, and Leon nods, signaling her to continue.

“I hated that I was the only one who didn’t know. I hated that he—h-he was gonna let someone else tell me where he was instead of just telling me himself, like I’m too young to handle it when I’m nineteen fucking years old!” Her voice cracks near the end, and the pain is so evident that Leon himself is a little pissed off too—and he never even met the guy. He gives her a moment to collect herself. “I’m sorry. We haven’t even known each other for that long, and here I am having a meltdown in in the middle of the night. I haven’t even asked how you’ve been holdin’ up lately.”

Leon shakes his head slightly, resisting the urge to put his hand on her shoulder to show some kind of comfort. “No, it’s okay—really. You’ve been through literal hell and back. Of course you’ve gotta… y’know. Let it out. I’m not judging you. You don’t need to worry about me; I’m, uh. More concerned about you.”

Claire scoffs and gently punches his good shoulder. “Yeah, right. You sound just like him—always sayin’ how nothing’s wrong and actin’ all strong. I see right through it.” As always, Claire does things first, and puts her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I know something’s up, Leon. You haven’t been talking much since you got out of the hospital. Even Sherry noticed that you haven’t really been yourself.”

 _You don’t even know me. Yes, yes, stop, you know me, we’re friends, even if we’ve only been friends for a few weeks, you’re just trying to help. Say something. Say something, you trust her, tell her the truth_ —“I’m just tired, seriously. I think those herbs must’ve done something to my energy or something.” _I hate myself_.

Her hand left his shoulder, and Leon felt a little less secure without that extra warmth. “I don’t believe you at all, Kennedy.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you about something like this.” _Except for right now_. 

Claire’s eyebrow raises as she prepares to argue, but then she raises her hands in defeat. “Alright, alright. Don’t tell me. But don’t keep it in alright? It’s not healthy to keep all those bad things inside of you,” She stands up, making her way to the hallway where her room was. “If you don’t wanna talk to me, talk to Rebecca; she’s a good listener.” 

Leon doesn’t say anything at first as he settles back under his blanket, and Claire was about to leave before he settled on saying something anyway. “You know… You’re right. We’ve only known each other for a few weeks, which isn’t that long, but… I think of you as a good friend, Claire.”

Leon couldn’t see it, but Claire smiled. “Me too, Leon. G’night.”

“Goodnight,” Leon says, and he finally falls asleep.

* * *

When they get to the airport, Leon has to take a minute to gather himself. It’s been so long since he’s seen this many people; the hospital wasn’t even this crowded. It was also just so _strange_ , because none of these people smelled like rotting flesh and weren’t literally falling apart limb by limb. They were human beings. Living, breathing, doing human things because they could. He almost felt like it was a twisted trick being played on him, and next thing he knew some towering bastard in a trench coat would come plowing through the crowd to kill him. 

All he could register is the massive amounts of people and Sherry’s small, warm hand dragging him along. He didn’t even pay attention to the large windows, the statues and art structures, restaurants, or even the sky. He looked straight ahead at nothing specifically, but he was definitely ready to grab Sherry, Claire, and somehow Rebecca before he made a run for it, just in case some random monster came around.

They wait at the gate for a bit, and in comes Chris Redfield himself, dragging a suitcase along. After what Claire told him last night, Leon expected her to punch him in the face or something. Instead she stood in front of him, glared at him, and gave him a hug so tight that Leon could feel it just by watching. Rebecca then joined in, giving him a hug as well, and Chris’s defined arms came around them both. Sherry hesitantly walked over, and Chris bent to her level, introducing himself as he offered her a hand, which she shyly accepted and shook gently before she went back to Leon’s side. “I’m Sherry,” she says quickly, as both of her tiny hands grasped one of Leon’s hands, and the rookie squeezed them gently. 

Chris got up, and Leon held out his hand. “Hey. I’m Leon Kennedy, nice to meet you.”

Chris took his hand, and _wow_ this guy was a lot stronger than Leon was. His grip was firm, and so was Leon’s, but Chris’s grip felt like he was sure of what to do. Lately, Leon doesn’t know what to do and he’s not very sure of anything right now. But their hands shake, eye contact kept, and he obviously did _something_ right because Chris smiled at him. “Chris Redfield. Rebecca told me that you saved my sister’s life, and I’m extremely grateful for that.”

They let go of each other, and Leon immediately shoved his free hand in jean pocket. “No, no—if anything, she saved _me_ ; I probably would’ve died if she hadn’t gotten that train started.” 

“Give yourself some credit, Mr. Kennedy. You survived a nightmare. That in itself seems pretty heroic to me.” Chris’s smile gets bigger, and Leon wants to lean in close enough to test if he could see his own reflection in Chris’s pearly white teeth. _Jesus, that’s a weird impulse. Reel it in, Leon._

“Uh, thanks. You can just call me Leon, by the way. I don’t mind.” 

“Well then, Leon, if that’s the case—just call me Chris.” Chris’s smile is still present, and Leon can’t help but give a little smile of his own. It’s been awhile since the last time he smiled, and it felt a little weird to do it after all this time. But it wasn’t bad.

Chris turned his attention to Rebecca and Claire. “Anybody else hungry? Because I’m **starving**. I could go for a burger or something.”

“Oh, oh, oh!” Sherry squeals, her shyness no longer evident. “I want burgers! And fries, with a big strawberry shake, and a cookie!” 

Rebecca laughed and shook her head. “None of that is healthy, you know. But if that’s what you guys really want, then I don’t see what could stop us from heading down back to my place and getting something on the way there.”

“Oooor we could just get something from one of the millions of fast food places here. Why make a stop when we could just get something right now?” Chris made a grand gesture of showing off the multitude of food courts mixed with bookstores and tourist shops. Sherry very eagerly nodded her head, and Chris pointed at her as if she further proved his point.

Claire laughed as she ruffled Chris’s hair. “Of course a knucklehead like _you_ would want to get food at an airport of all places. That’s super weird, Chris. **You’re** weird.”

He laughed too, his chest rumbling as he ruffled his sister’s hair in return. Leon swore he could he feel the ground shake. “Oh, I am _not_ hearing this from someone who eats miracle whip sandwiches. That’s totally weirder, Claire.”

“It’s totally not!” Claire says defensively, and even Leon joins in on the surrounding laughter. “Whatever! We’re gonna pick up something on the way to Rebecca’s whether you like it or not!” 

No one argued or complained, everyone soaking in each other’s laughter and their happiness about just being able to live the day and countless others. Leon only occasionally joined in, preferring to let Rebecca and Claire catch up with their old friend/older brother figure. 

While the girls prodded him about what he saw in Europe, Chris smiled at Leon for what seemed like the millionth time. Leon smiled back, a little bigger than he did before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay well. this was agony to write but also very fun to write so whether i complete this or not is up to whether or not people want it lol
> 
> if you’re wondering about the miracle whip sandwich—that’s me projecting. i eat that. yes i know it’s cursed and weird. i just think claire might be a little freakazoid with food just like me. 
> 
> but anyways... comments / constructive criticism / kudos are all appreciated... have a nice day and thank you for reading... whatever this was.


	2. feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow hi. i did not expect people to want more. thats a good thing! because i definitely wanted to finish this fic, i aimed for it to be more than just 3 or so chapters bc its not really slow burn if it’s not agonizingly drawn out! or something like that. sorry for such a late update... i'm still balancing school and other personal stuff, so i'm not sure how to schedule updates. but we'll get there when we get there.
> 
> i can’t respond to all of your comments (mainly bc i never know what to say without sounding repetitive) but know that i read every one of them and i appreciate them so much! thank you for taking time out of your day to say something nice about this lil fic of mine.
> 
> but anyway, now that thats over, i hope you enjoy ^^

Despite the small group, Chris’s arrival was treated like a fanfare; sitting around the small table in Rebecca’s kitchen, Sherry, who had just met the man, was whooping and hollering about how happy she was to see him as if he were an old friend she hadn’t seen in years. Claire seemed glued to him--if she wasn’t hugging him, she was punching his shoulder because of his bad jokes. Rebecca seemed just as happy as the other two, with Leon being the odd man out, quiet and out of the reunion so he didn’t ruin the moment somehow.

It wasn’t like he was miserable about the whole thing, but rather a little unsure of how he should react. He had no siblings and had grown up with a widowed father, who was barely emotionally available and seemed more in love with his work than his own wife, even when she was alive. It was hard to replicate their relief, joy, and _love_ for Chris, one reason for that being because he didn’t really get that much affection during his childhood and had no idea how to properly return it without being awkward, and the other reason being the fact that he barely knew the guy anyway. _But that doesn’t stop a literal child, so why the hell is it stopping me?_

Their fast food had yet to be touched since everyone was still euphoric as they soaked in Chris’s presence. Leon didn’t want anything, but Sherry ordered _two_ special-limited-time-only-mega-jumbo-deluxe french fries and insisted that he take one of them, and he didn’t have the heart to refuse her. He nibbled on his fry as he stared at the small crack in the wooden surface of the table, and slowly began to block everything out. He felt like he was drifting again, but this time he was drifting in one set place instead of floating ceaselessly to no place in particular. Laughter and bubbly voices turned to white noise, and he was robotically eating one french fry after the other, only ending his movements when he managed to bite his fingers because he had nothing else to grab onto. This snaps him out of his drifting, and he sharply hisses in pain, earning shocked looks from everyone else in return.

He freezes, his hands clenching, his nails digging deep in his suddenly sweaty palms. “What?” he asks, harsher than he intended. 

“You sounded like a kitty just now,” Sherry giggles.

“Y’know, I think he might actually be one, considering how quiet he is,” Chris says, and Leon gets a little defensive until the other man continues with a small smile, “I like cats, though. Less noise means less distraction.”

Leon feels his face warm immediately, and Sherry laughs even harder, everyone else joins in. It’s all lighthearted, lacks any malice. Chris’s laugh--genuine, full of joy and faith in future days--is the one Leon can distinguish the most out of everyone else’s laughter.

* * *

Sherry heads to bed early, sleepily bidding everyone goodnight as she shuffled back to her room. The adults stay in the kitchen, at the table that’s so small that Leon has to move his legs to the side to avoid accidentally touching someone else’s knees with his own. In the process of moving, he does exactly that, and of _course_ , he brushes the knees of the guy he just met. 

The blond freezes immediately as he quickly murmurs an apology, and Chris just flashes a smile and gives a small wave of his hand as if to say it’s no big deal. His smile is so warm and so boyish, even though he’s got a few years on the other man. It makes Leon feel weird, but not the kind of weird that he’s been floating in ever since the outbreak, but a different kind of weird that makes his stomach flip. He’s so focused on that weirdness that he’s too late in realizing that he’s been staring at Chris like a total idiot, who’s staring right back at him, and he blinks rapidly, tries to focus on his hand that was resting on the table. 

They all sit without speaking for a little bit, and the only thing filling in the quiet is the rustle of leaves outside and the buzz of the air conditioner. It’s fall, and it feels a lot colder inside than it does outside, but nobody feels like objecting to it. There’s something about the heat that bothers Leon--it could be because of his sudden shift in mental state, or it could be because he had spent hours in the uncomfortably warm waters of the sewers, or maybe the intense heat from the flames that had consumed the lab. He knows that it’s got to be all of those reasons, and now that he’s actually gave it some thought, he’s desperate for something to take his mind off of it. So, for the first time in days, he’s the one that starts a conversation.

“It’s fall.” _Great icebreaker, dumbass._

Claire makes a noncommittal noise. “It sure is.”

Leon tries a bit harder. “I forgot, since it, uh. Doesn’t really look like fall. When did it even start? ”

Rebecca chimes in, but her voice is barely above a whisper. “September 23.”

Leon flinches and Claire sighs as she covers her face. Rebecca places a hand on Claire’s shoulder, and Chris looks at her sadly. 

Chris tries to change the topic. “Hey, Rebecca—remember that time back at the mansion, in the room with the piano?”

Rebecca bristles, her eyes narrowing--a warning. “Chris--”

He continues, unfazed. “--and I couldn’t play the song right, so I asked you to do it? You played it really bad. Probably even worse than I did--”

“-- _I literally solved the puzzle and opened the door for you_ \--”

“--and then, after I let you practice for a while, _that_ was when you finally got it right? I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while now: who taught you how to play? And how did you even know the song?”

Rebecca stares at him in annoyance and disbelief, sighing before she actually responds. “Jill taught me. She was always listening to classical music and used to pretend that she was playing the piano on her desk when she had nothing else to do,” her chin rests in her hands as she reminisces, smiling a little. “Moonlight Sonata was her favorite piece, and I thought it was pretty, so I asked her if she could teach me how to play it.”

Chris huffs a laugh and fondly says, “What a nerd.” 

Claire, who had just sat back and had been looking back and forth between the two as they bantered, straightened her posture. “Jill... as in lockpicking Jill?”

“Lockpicking Jill?” Rebecca asks with a laugh. “I’ve heard Master of Unlocking, but not _Lockpicking Jill_. What’s with the nickname?”

Claire’s eyes grow wide as she grins mischievously, and Chris looks like he’s gonna collapse if he doesn’t stop her from speaking right this instant. He only gets to part his lips slightly before Claire shoves her hand in his face, her words flying fast but still discernible. “Chris got himself locked in my closet after he tried to scare me, so I had to call Jill to get him out. It was our first meeting! She’s really nice, and she even told me how she had to lockpick him out of a locker one time. Really lovely interaction, if I’m being honest.”

Now that he’s collected himself, it’s Leon’s turn to speak up. “How does someone as beefy as _you_ get stuck in a locker? How did you even fit half of yourself in there?”

Chris pushes Claire’s arm away, his face free from her grasp. He laughs shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as a bit of a blush spreads across his cheeks. “I wouldn’t say I’m _beefy_.”

Leon's eyebrows raise up in shock. “Are you kidding me? I’ve got the physique of a stick compared to you. I can barely lift up Sherry without feeling like I’m gonna throw my back out, _bullshit_ you aren’t beefy.”

Rebecca interjects before Chris can get the chance to. “He used to punch walls during workouts. I think if he built up his muscle mass a little bit more, he could punch a boulder without getting hurt.”

Leon glances at Chris’s nicely--maybe _too_ nicely--defined biceps that stretch out the short sleeves of his shirt. He swallows down something heavy and forces himself to make contact with Chris’s dark brown eyes, which seem to twinkle under the lights on the ceiling. _God that’s even worse than the muscles_ , Leon thinks, making him look at Claire instead, who’s grinning ear to ear as her eyes switch from the rookie and her older brother. 

“What are you sitting there all happy for, punk?” Chris asks as he starts ruffling her hair, which she very strongly objects to, but that doesn't stop him.

She swats his arm, but her grin doesn’t falter. “I’ve got an idea.”

“That’s dangerous,” Chris says under his breath, earning him another swat.

“ _Anyways_ , as I was saying, I’ve got an idea: you and Leon do an arm wrestling match. Whoever loses has breakfast duty tomorrow.”

Chris smirks with a competitive gleam in his eyes. “I’m down with that. How about you?”

 _Not at all._ “Bring it on, Redfield.”

“Leon, be careful. Use your good arm at least.” Rebecca says with slight concern. 

Claire is the exact opposite, slamming her fist on the table as she points at Leon. “You’re _screwed_ , Chris. He got shot in the shoulder and _lived._ ”

Leon absently rubs the shoulder in question, murmuring, “I’m pretty sure a bullet in the shoulder isn’t a life-threatening injury.”

“It can be, actually! That is if you don’t get medical attention quickly enough. But it depends on where you were shot in your shoulder, as you could’ve lost complete feeling of your arm if it entered the right place--”

Leon grimaces, trying not to think about the sudden pain in his shoulder now that he’s gripping it so tightly. “--Oh my God, okay, can we _**please**_ not talk about how lucky I am to be alive right now? Weren’t we supposed to be arm wrestling?”

Rebecca raises her hands as if she was giving up on speaking any further, and Claire tapped the table with the heel of her hands in excitement, raving, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right! Let’s get this show on the road boys. Fight!”

The two men set their elbows on the table, their grip on each other firm. Leon noticed how warm the other man’s hand was compared to his own, which was as cold as the autumn breeze that swept through the night. It was strange, and Leon was so caught up in its warmth, so _distracted_ , that he was too slow to react when Claire gave the go-ahead to begin. He started to forget about the warmth when the pain from Chris slamming his hand onto the hard table had become too much to ignore.

“Rematch,” Leon said instantly, even though his hand throbbing with pain. “I wasn’t ready. Let’s do it again.”

Chris hesitates for a second or two but agrees to it, and even though Leon is paying more attention, he still loses. But at least he put up more of a fight this time. 

“Looks like you’re making breakfast tomorrow, champ,” Claire declares, deflated. “Looks like we need to train you some more before the next round. Is your hand okay? ‘Cause it seems pretty… swollen.”

Rebecca leans over to get a good look and tuts in disapproval. “You boys are way too rough with each other. You’re gonna need some ice for this.”

Chris mirrors the medic, wincing as if he was the one suffering from an injury. “Shit, I’m _really_ sorry. I don’t know my own strength sometimes.”

“That’s something a beefy guy would say,” Rebecca teases, and Claire hits her playfully as she tries to hide her snickering.

“It’s fine.” he hisses, more due to the pain than at Chris. “Next time, it’s gonna be _you_ with a swollen hand.” He says this jokingly, but it comes out a little more aggressive than he intended.

Chris blinks as if he didn’t expect the response, and at first, Leon feels a little awkward and was about to apologize, but his words die at his lips when the brunet gets this confident, _sure-you-will_ smile on his face and Leon feels his chest tighten. He returns the favor with a hesitant, wobbly smirk, and Chris laughs. He laughs and laughs, and Leon can’t help but revel in the warm feeling it brings.

* * *

When Leon gets his hand treated, complete quiet swept through the house. The girls had fallen asleep; Sherry tried to make it as inconspicuous as possible, but it was obvious that the girl was afraid of sleeping alone, so Claire shared a bed with her in the guest room, and Rebecca slept in her own room. Since the only option left was the sofa bed, Leon and Chris had no choice but to share.

Leon has never slept bed with someone else. He always took a while to fall asleep, and when he did sleep, he moved around too much, so much that he’d wake up with half of his body on the ground and a major crick in his neck. The last thing he needed was accidentally kicking Chris and giving him the same fate. 

There was a gap between them. They both laid on their backs, looking up at nothing in particular, hoping that they’d eventually give in and finally succumb to slumber. Unfortunately, Leon hasn’t had an easy time doing that, and apparently, neither has Chris. Leon feels the bed tremble a little as Chris flips to his side, facing him. The blond remains stock still, suddenly interested in an imaginary suspicious stain on the ceiling. 

“You still up?” Chris asks. Leon’s heart feels like it’s pumping five times its usual rate.

 _Don’t say anything._ “Yeah.”

“I’m really sorry about your hand.”

“I told you, it’s fine,” Leon’s clammy hands grip the flimsy sheets beneath him. It kind of hurts but there’s a voice in the back of his mind that’s telling him that he deserves it. “Don’t sweat it.”

“It’s really not. I mean, I just met you and the first thing I do is nearly break your hand.”

“I wouldn’t say it was the first thing you did,” Leon tries to relax a little, make sure it isn’t evident that he’s kind of a wreck right now. “We shook hands back at the airport, so... I’d say that was our first interaction.”

Chris makes a vague _yeah I guess_ noise and silence falls again. It’s silent for a precisely five heartbeats before Chris speaks again. 

“I can handle breakfast tomorrow. You need to rest your hand and not put any more strain on it.”

“I can use my other hand,” Leon turns his head to face the man in beside him. “Why do you care so much anyway? It’s not like it’s broken--it’s just a little swollen. I--” he stops because he wants to say _I’m not that useless_ but there’s something screaming at him that yes, yes he is that useless, and his hand only contributes to that fact. “I don’t really care. Make breakfast if you want.”

Fifteen heartbeats. Leon turns to face the ceiling again. His hands cover his face and slowly drag down, as he’s overcome with exhaustion. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. I get you.” Chris replies, turning on his side. “Goodnight.”

Leon responds in kind, but wonders what exactly Chris _gets_ about him. He isn’t sure whether he’s comforted or not by the thought of Chris possibly understanding the constant mood swings, or the occasional startling self-deprecating and/or suicidal thought, or the perpetual drifting state. He doesn’t like the concept of someone knowing what’s on his mind, much less relating to it. There’s a reason for that, and Leon doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t _want_ to know.

He tries not to think about why that is.

* * *

Leon wakes up almost instantly. He gets up stiffly, feeling like it’s someone else controlling his legs as he makes his way to the patio. As he walks, he notices that the digital clock is blinking 4:38 A.M. This doesn’t stop him from sliding the patio door open and closing it just as quickly, then plopping down onto one of the chairs. 

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, he just knows it has to have been a couple of hours since he was able to watch the sunrise. He’s freezing but he feels like he doesn’t deserve warmth, especially with how he talked to Chris last night. He feels guilty--no, he’s been feeling guilty since the outbreak. He feels like it’s another weight on his shoulders, another sin that he can’t atone for, another wonderful example of how fucked up he’s become since he escaped a literal nightmare, _another reason for me to die._

The door slides open. Leon flinches hard, but he doesn’t turn to see who’s coming out to join him.

“Why are you up so early? It’s 8 in the morning,” a soft female voice asks. Nothing is really clicking as fast as it usually should, so it takes Leon a minute to piece together the identity of who’s speaking--it’s Claire--and another minute to come up with an answer that won’t raise any suspicion about his current state of mind. His silence as he struggles to come up with something might make it obvious.

“I just, uh—can’t help but notice how the sky’s just so beautiful right now,” He swallows something thick, and he feels like he’s about to shatter. “It’s always beautiful, but it’s even more beautiful right now. Right?” Leon’s voice is a mix of too much--too forced to be genuinely cheery, to wobbly to be relaxed, too obvious that he’s this close to letting the waterworks begin--and Claire is too smart not to notice. It’s all bullshit and we both know it.

Thankfully, she doesn’t comment on it. She gives him a look, obviously pained for _him_ , but it’s not like he can see it; he’s doing a shit job at making it seem not as obvious, but he’s very obviously trying to avoid eye contact with her as much as possible. 

She sighs, takes a seat next to him, gives up on pushing further _for now._ “Yeah... it is.”

* * *

Two hours pass. Neither has spoken a word. Once 10 hits, the house comes alive once Sherry comes bouncing into the living room, calling for Leon and Claire to come inside for breakfast. Claire stands up, stretching her legs and arms. She walks up to the patio door, looking at Leon expectantly. He turns to face her, and her look says it all: _are you coming?_

“I’m not that hungry,” Leon answers, turning back to face the sky.

Claire huffs, her frustration becoming evident. “You barely ate yesterday. Plus, you really shouldn’t stare at the sun; you could go blind.”

He doesn’t respond, and before Claire can give him the tongue lashing of his life, Sherry calls for them again, going on about how her dad said that breakfast was the most important meal of the day. Leon still doesn’t budge.

“The least you could do is come inside and sit with us.” 

He’s suddenly too tired to argue and reluctantly heads toward the kitchen with Claire. 

“Where’s Rebecca?” Claire asks as she takes a seat at the table.

“Working,” Chris answers as he attempts to flip a pancake. Sherry watches him intensely. “she said that there was an emergency she had to tend to. I’m supposed to meet up with her and— _shit._ ”

Claire walks over to the stove and sighs at whatever mess Chris had been making over there. “I don’t know why you’re cooking when we already established that I’m the better cook in this siblingship.”

Chris snorts and lightly pushes Claire away from his now burning pancakes. “ _Siblingship?_ First, we’re making up lies, and now we’re making up words? Two in a row this early in the morning, squirt? I expected better of you,” he clicks his tongue and shakes his head in dramatic disappointment. He then turns to Sherry and makes a _coo-coo_ motion, which makes the little girl laugh and his little sister more annoyed. His sister is younger and quicker, and she manages to snatch the spatula that he’d been holding in a blink of an eye. She pushes him back and takes his place at the stove, getting rid of the burnt pancake that had been sizzling on the pan and pours fresh batter onto it. 

The two siblings continue to banter and bicker, with Sherry giggling at the scene. Leon puts his arms on the table and rests his head on them, his eyes closing.

Time passes and soon Claire is done with her pancake, which is now hot and ready on a plate. The redhead makes a frustrated noise and glares at her brother. “There’s barely any batter left to feed all of us. I can’t believe you, Chris!”

“Well, hey, we got oatmeal and some fruit. We can just give the pancake to Sherry.”

The two siblings look at Sherry for her answer, and in response, she looks at Leon, and they follow her gaze. Leon can feel them staring, and it’s infuriating, uncomfortable, terrible, stop looking at me stop it stop it stop—

His self-loathing session is temporarily put on hold when he feels the plate nudging his forearm. His hand starts to throb immediately, and he thinks it’s just his body trying to make him feel even worse than he does right now. He feels a tiny finger poke his scalp, and he forces himself to open his eyes because he knows the poker is Sherry, and can’t ignore her as he can with everyone else. He would never ignore her.

“You can have my pancake. I’ve never had oatmeal before, and Claire told me I shouldn’t be afraid of trying new things, so I wanna try oatmeal instead.” Sherry bounces a little bit as she beams at him, and Leon doesn’t want to refuse her, but he can’t bring himself to eat anything right now. He shakes his head, and Sherry pouts a little to make him budge, but her efforts are in vain. 

“Eat some fruit at least,” Chris insists, getting close to the table with an apple that he got from the fruit bowl on the counter in hand. “Doing anything on an empty stomach is a disaster in the making.” 

Sherry nods in agreement, and Claire has a strange look on her face like she’s got something to say. She decides to remain silent, looking in Leon’s direction but not directly at him, like she’s staring right through him. It just pisses him off, and he gets more pissed off at himself for being mad at her, for having these random nonsensical mood swings that won’t go away. He’s tired and he’s sick of talking, just wants to sleep the entire day, just wants to snap at everyone and tell them to go away, but he knows it won’t make anything better. 

He takes one bite of the apple, and he can’t help the way his face twitches as it fights off any emotion trying to appear. He feels like a caged animal with the way everyone is looking at him, and he bites down an irritable remark. He drops the apple on the table and says, “Can we just go to the park?”

And after everyone else has eaten, that’s exactly what they do.

* * *

The morning was soon transitioning to noon, and the park was slowly but surely beginning to be filled with more people. Chris told everyone else to go on without him since he was gonna clean up, and promised to join them later. Claire stayed behind with him to help, leaving Leon and Sherry to venture alone. They sat at a wooden bench, enjoying the warmth of the sun on their skin. Even though it was autumn, it was warmer than usual, and at this particular moment, Leon didn’t mind it much. 

“Hey, Leon… are you okay?” Sherry asks. She sounds worried.

“What?” He’s surprised by her tone. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You just seem a little… I dunno...“ She kicks her feet as she searches for a word. “...lonely. Do you miss your brother, too?”

Leon blinks at her as he tries to process her question. Maybe to others it seemed like he was coming up with an excuse, and he sort of was, but he was mostly asking himself: _Do I have a brother?_

Answer: he doesn’t, and he tells her that after a minute of thinking on it. _Why did I even have to think about it?_

“Oh… Well, do you miss someone?” She asks, innocently but cautiously, as if she thinks he’s going to go off on her for just for asking such a thing. The guilt in his chest just seems to pile up.

He tries to focus on her question and thinks about it. He’s got a very small handful of things that he misses, and he hates that Ada was included. _That’s probably not even her real name._ “My dog, Elza. I haven’t seen her since I came to Raccoon.”

“Oh, I-I’m sorry...” Sherry says, her brows knit together in sympathy. “That’s a really pretty name, though. Um… what kinda dog is she?

He closes his eyes, in what seemed like reminiscence, but he was actually getting overwhelmed just by thinking about it. “A bloodhound.”

That definitely piqued the girl’s interest, because she cooed and slightly leaned towards him, eager to hear more. “A bloodhound? That sounds so cool!” She says, then after a few seconds, she leans back a bit and fiddles with the hem of her shirt that’s obviously Rebecca’s. “Um… are bloodhounds like the dogs that were in the city?”

“No, those were Dobermans.” Leon’s eyes opened when he reassures her, lips curving upward. “Elza wouldn’t hurt a fly. She’s the sweetest dog in the world.”

Sherry sighs dreamily, and Leon smiles even more. “She sounds like a really nice dog. My uncle would let me play with the dogs back in the lab, but my daddy told him to stop since I might get hurt.” A soft breeze sways the stray strands of her hair, and her feet stop moving. “I miss my parents. And my uncle too.”

“Was your uncle in the city?”

It was obviously a sore subject because the girl stiffened and tried to avoid Leon’s eyes as she spoke. “No… he went missing a little while ago. At least that’s what my daddy told me. He used to work at the R.P.D, just like you.”

Now it’s Leon’s turn to stiffen. “Really?”

She hums. “He was the S.T.A.R.S. captain. They went on a mission a few months ago, but… my uncle didn’t come back. Daddy didn’t tell me any more than that since he didn’t know.” 

_There’s probably a lot more that he hasn’t told you._ “Do you have any other relatives?”

She shook her head, resting her chin on her hand with a sigh. Leon reached over and gently took her free hand. “Well, you got me and Claire. Rebecca and Chris too. It’s not the most conventional family but… I think it’s good enough. What do you think?” He asks, his voice a little uneven, unsure if he’s crossing a boundary.

Sherry blinked, her face lighting up as she took his hand with both of hers. “I think it’s more than good enough,” she says softly, her voice full of something sweet. “I think it’s perfect.”

The two sit in blissful silence, watching joggers pass and dogs catching frisbees. The Redfield siblings finally join them at last, and Sherry hops up and sprints to meet them, hugging Claire like she was going to vanish at any moment. Chris laughs that ever so charming laugh again, and when he meets Leon’s eyes, the laugh dies down, leaving a grin in its wake. Leon doesn’t hesitate to grin right back at him.

* * *

Their visit to the park was mostly uneventful up until Claire suggested that they all play tag. Even though everything in his body had advised against it, Leon decided to play with them, and for a good half hour, it was a normal game with a normal amount of fun.

Chris was the tagger now, and everyone ran like their life depended on it. The only one who could _barely_ outrun him was Leon, but he credited the police academy and running from a giant monster with a trench coat for that ability. Chris’s fingers were mere inches from Leon’s shoulders, and they only were able to reach him because he suddenly stopped, standing as still as a statue.

Chris laughed, shaking the blond gently by the shoulder. “This isn’t freeze tag, Leon. You can move now.” He chuckles a little, but then his voice starts to drop in tone, suddenly serious. “Leon. You okay there?”

Leon made a noise, as the words that had left Chris’s lips seemed more like a distorted mess that his brain couldn’t decipher at the moment, as it was too busy sending focusing on the zombie that stumbled towards him. He’s breathing rapidly, his hands frantically roamed his hips and patted his pockets as he searched for a gun or really _anything_ that could use as a defensive item, but the zombie had already grabbed him by his shoulders, and suddenly the world went dark.

When Leon woke up, there was no suspicious stain in the ceiling--in fact, there was no ceiling, as it had been replaced by the sky, which served as a frame for Chris’s head.

The two men were so closer to each other that Leon could see the freckles on the other man’s cheeks, and if he took the time, he could count them all. He noticed a lot of things about his face, actually--his jawline wasn’t that of a supermodel but it was defined enough that even Leon could admit it was attractive; his eyes were different than his sister’s, a silvery-blue unlike anything Leon had ever seen before; he’s got a 5 o’clock shadow that Leon never noticed until now; to sum it up, it made sense that Chris would have European women flocking to him in herds. 

Chris asked a question, and Leon had no idea what he said, making a confused face. Chris sighed in relief, and Leon still had the faintest idea what for.

“You gave us quite the scare, buddy. We thought we had to take you to the hospital, but, uh. You seem fine enough,” Chris still looks a little nervous despite the ease in his words. “Do you… feel fine, though? You fainted, and I caught you before you bust your skull open on the ground.”

“Uh-huh,” Leon croaks. 

“Uh-huh?” Chris repeats.

“Yeah.” And the world is dark once more.

* * *

It’s night time, and he’s back at Rebecca’s house. Leon only knows this he can see the moonlight streaming through the window in the living room, as he lays on the sofa bed. Claire’s at the foot of the bed, staring at the wall.

“Where’s Sherry?” Leon asks.

“In bed,” Claire answers. “I tucked her in about an hour ago.” 

Leon sits up slowly, groaning as a headache seems to move with him. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping too?”

“I don’t have a bedtime, Leon.”

“I know, it’s just that—Sherry doesn’t like sleeping alone.”

“I know.”

Leon doesn’t respond, mainly because he doesn’t know how to. After a few moments of silence, Claire rises from the bed.

“Let’s go outside,” she says.

“It’s cold, though.” Leon says.

“That didn’t stop you this morning,” _Low blow._ “Come on.” 

He got up reluctantly, dragging his feet as he trailed behind her. Claire leaves the door slightly open behind her and sits down with him. He counts thirteen heartbeats.

“What did you see at the park?” Claire asks softly. 

Leon picks at imaginary fluff on his jeans. _I really should change out of these._ He can feel her eyes on him and knows he can’t get out of this by being silent. “Nothing important.”

“It was obviously something if it caused you to pass out.” She says, and the softness she had previously was replaced with something bitter. “What’s up with you? One minute you’re a kinda nice and the next minute you’re a major asshole. Why do you keep pushing us away? What’s wrong?”

Leon doesn’t answer, and Claire makes a frustrated noise that’s loud enough to startle not only him but whatever creature that had been settled in one of the bushes in the yard. 

It’s still not enough to make him respond. 

“Fine. Don’t tell me then.” She hisses as she gets up suddenly, storming back inside and sliding the door shut behind her. He regrets not saying what’s been bothering him, wants to chase after her and spill his heart out, but he decides to get up and lay on the grass instead, watching the night sky. Someone in the back of his head who vaguely sounds like Rebecca is telling him that staying out in this weather is a bad idea and he should get back to bed, and he considered it for a moment, but the idea dissolved when he heard the door slide open again. 

It’s Sherry, and her little feet crush the grass beneath her as she walks to where he’s laying. They lock eyes, and Sherry smiles halfheartedly. She then sits next to him with knees pulled to her chest and asks quietly, “Are you guys fighting?”

Leon’s heart jumps. “What? No, no, no. What—why—?” He abandons any somewhat believable lie to give her since he already knows that she’ll see right through it. “ How much did you hear?”

Sherry seems to shrink a little as she answers meekly, “...All of it.” Leon is incredulous. “I wanted to ask if Claire was gonna come to bed soon, but then I saw you two were on the patio. The door was open so I could hear everything.”

“How come Claire didn’t see you?” Leon asks.

“I was hiding. I’m really good at it now.” 

Leon snorts. “You weren’t good at it before?”

Sherry shakes her head. “I never had to hide until… you know.”

The small smile that had been on his face fell in an instant. “Oh.”

A heavy silence settled between them, but it ended once Leon heard the grass rustle as Sherry unravelled herself from her position and curled up next him, laying her head on his chest. He tenses up his hand twitching because he’s torn between wanting to hold her or remain still. His movements are robotic, hesitant—but he decides to put an arm around her and pull her closer, resting his cheek on the top of her head. 

“Aren’t you cold?” Leon asks?

“No,” Sherry says. “You’re really warm. Just like my dad.”

Leon doesn’t know what to say to that, and he can feel Sherry stiffen, so he holds her tighter, silently telling her that it was okay, that she didn’t do anything wrong. 

Eventually time passes, the sky turns from a dark purple to a void black, and Sherry snoring softly. Leon does everything delicately—from lifting her up and holding her in his arms to putting her in bed next to Claire, tucking her in with a kiss to her forehead. He steps back outside, back into the autumn chill, and lays back down on the grass. 

He noticed that the sky was starless, with only the moon to accompany him. It’s light shone so brightly, and on his skin it was soft and cold. It was the only comfort that he allowed himself to accept, and even then he felt guilty for not accepting it from Claire, who was an actual person with actual warmth and love—but there was something about the moon, no, something about the sky as a whole, that gave him solace. 

He didn’t notice he was trembling until his turned on his side, hugging himself tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) yes i totally did name leon’s dog after elza walker  
> 2) leon actually has a bloodhound [ (in the original re2 concept art at least)](https://img.neoseeker.com/v_concept_art.php?caid=7276)  
> 3) i'm kind of experimenting with canon, using not only re1 and re2 for info but also the extra files we get in the other games concerning the mansion and raccoon city survivors. bc why not!  
> 4) if youre wondering where this fic is headed: i have no idea. i mean i’ve got handful of directions that this fic will take, but in terms of how it will get there is beyond me. but that’s what planning is for. and other stuff. but mostly planning.
> 
> but yeah! thanks for reading. i’m not entirely satisfied with how this came out, but i’m glad i finished it regardless.   
> kudos/comments/criticism is always appreciated. have a good day and do good things!


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